Dreading the morning
by Lady in black
Summary: Post HBP. Harry has to deal with yet another loss of someone who has been like family to him. Depressed and feeling lonely will he be able to accomplish the final task? I suck at summaries. Please go inside for further details. Please read and review!
1. Leaving Home

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the wonderful world, J.K. Rowling has created. I merely like to play with her characters a bit.

Summary: Post HBP. Harry has to deal with yet another loss of someone who has been like family to him. Depressed and feeling lonely will he be able to accomplish the final task?

Begins right after Professor McGonagall has asked Harry to join him in her (and Dumbledore's former) office. (Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, chapter 29: The Phoenix Lament, page 583-584, British edition)

Warning: AU; graphic violence in later chapters; will eventually be ADMM, HPGW; character death.

A/N: Please, please let me know whether this is worth continuing. I have quite many ideas in mind for the story and any feedback from you guys would be greatly appreciated. No flames, though.

DREADING THE MORNING

Chapter One

_After glancing once at this portrait, Professor McGonagall made an odd movement as though steeling herself, then rounded the desk to look at Harry, her face taunt and lined._

"Harry. I am not going to ask you any questions right now." She eyed the boy standing opposite of her closely, looking at his trembling figure from head to toe when she finally placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Your grief must be overwhelming as is mine but there are things that have to be taken care of." She paused for a mere moment before speaking again. "One of them is you. Dumbledore has left me with instructions as how to proceed in case anything should happen to him." Her voice broke and McGonagall once more rounded the desk and stepped toward a large bookshelf. She drew her wand and tapped one of the books. It flew out of the row of books, hovered to the desk where it landed without making a sound. Professor McGonagall took the letter that now lay on top of it and handed it to Harry. He took it from her and his trembling fingers opened the sealed piece of parchment with difficulty. Tears welled up as soon as he recognized Dumbledore's fine handwriting.

_Trust her._

Harry read the simple two words again and again and finally looked up to meet his professor's puffy eyes with his. Then, unable to believe that these simple two words were the only thing, Dumbledore had left him, he read the note again as though he was trying to find some more words, some kind of a message, something Dumbledore had always wanted to tell him but never had a chance to. But there was nothing. "What does this mean?" he finally asked while he folded the parchment up and put it in the pocket of his dirty and torn jeans.

"Do you trust me and at that Albus?"

"Why yes! Of course I do…" Before Harry could finish his sentence McGonagall had walked up to him, again resting a hand on his shoulder.

"I promise I will explain everything to you when there's time. The Minister will be here any moment and I want you gone by then. If you would please follow me now."

Harry followed Professor McGonagall through seemingly endless secret passages that he had never seen on the Marauder's Map for what seemed like a little eternity. The stonewalls were dark and moist and the path only enlightened by a few torches that obviously had been bewitched to burn endlessly. They made many twists and turns and Harry had a feeling that they would probably never get out of there again. But McGonagall seemed to know her way around and came to an abrupt halt when they had eventually reached a quite huge but old wooden door.

"I trust you know how to Apparate by now?" Professor McGonagall asked him while she was busy trying to open the lock with an enormous key.

"Yes, but I've got no license yet."

"Never mind that now." Eventually she had managed to open the lock. "As soon as we've stepped out, just hold onto my arm and I'll guide you."

Harry hesitated for a moment. Her words – they were so much alike the ones he had heard in a conversation earlier that same night. Only it wasn't McGonagall he'd been talking to but Dumbledore. And then there was something else that echoed in his mind, only a few words that had been haunting him for hours now. 'I am not worried, Harry. I am with you…'

"Harry?" McGonagall's voice dragged him back into reality. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," he answered at length. "I think."

"There is no time to lose. Let us be gone. Hold on to my arm." Harry did as he was told and nearly the very same moment the odd sensation of being squeezed through a rubber tube engulfed him again; he found it hard to breathe and nearly as soon as it had begun it was over again.

"Where are we?" Harry asked and looked around. They were standing underneath an enormously tall oak tree right in front of what appeared to be an old and rather weather-worn cottage.

"Not now, Harry." Professor McGonagall rushed towards the wooden front door, dragging Harry along with her. The older witch knocked against the door twice and to Harry it seemed as though she was constantly surveying their surroundings.

"Coming!" responded a female voice from inside. Harry could hear footsteps hurrying down a staircase and quite soon a young woman opened the door, quickly stepping aside at the same time to let her late night visitors in. McGonagall, who was still holding on to his arm, dragged him quickly inside and Harry could hear the door being thrown shut behind them. McGonagall turned toward Harry and forced him to look at her.

"Listen, Harry. You have to stay here for a while. I promise I'll come back later and explain everything. For now I have to go back. Maggie is going to take care of you."

Harry didn't quite know what to say and so he chose to say nothing. Instead he just nodded and McGonagall turned back to the woman she had just referred to as Maggie.

"Take a look at his wounds. Madame Pomfrey didn't have time as there were too many wounded."

"I shall do that, Minerva. Now be gone. I'll take care of him, don't worry." The younger woman said. "Be careful."

"I will be. Good bye." Professor McGonagall glanced once more at Harry and then disapparated without another word.

With a flick of her wand Maggie turned the lights in the house on and then led Harry into the living room. Mentioning for him to sit down on the old but comfortable looking sofa, she went out of the room only to return a few moments later with a tea tray. She placed it on the coffee table and sat down next to Harry.

"I'm Margaret," she eventually introduced herself. "But everyone calls me Maggie," she added with a slight smile and handed one of the tea cups on the tray to Harry who accepted it with still trembling hands. He sipped from his cup and eventually took a look at the woman sitting right next to him who was also sipping her tea. She appeared to be no older than thirty, thirty-five at most and to his surprise everything about her appeared to be black. She wore her black hair in a long ponytail that nearly went down to her hips. Her green eyes were hidden behind a pair of round eyeglasses much like the ones Harry wore himself and was dressed in black robes. In a way her appearance reminded him of Snape if there hadn't been that aura of gentleness and warmth that seemed to be surrounding her. There was only one thing that Harry thought was rather disturbing about her looks. Her eyes were all red and swollen as though she had been crying for the better part of the night. "Look, I know this is quite an awkward situation for both of us. You don't know me, I don't know you and yet we're sitting here together. So I suggest we behave like every other human being under the given circumstances. I'm going to take a look at your wounds and then show you to your bedroom. I really hope M…" she hesitated and then corrected herself. "I really hope Minerva will be here in the morning and I'm quite sure that she'll explain everything then. Are you okay with that?"

"Yes," Harry answered and was somewhat taken aback by her being so straight forward. Maggie sat down her teacup and started inspecting a deep gash on his forehead. "I need to get some bandages for that," she murmured after a while and got up. "Drink up, Harry. I'll be right back." Maggie went out of the room and Harry did as he'd been told. Other than in Gryffindor Tower, the silence in Maggie's living room was deafening. Sipping his tea, Harry closed his eyes to shut the world out, but what he saw, made him open his eyes again quickly. It happened again. Everything was back as though he were once again in the middle of the disaster. Dumbledore on the ground, drinking the potion that with every sip brought him closer to his end – the tower – Malfoy – the Death Eaters – Snape – the two unspeakable words, that had not only killed Dumbledore but something else within his very self…

The loud shattering of porcelain breaking on the wooden floor as it fell down pulled Harry back into reality. Tears were streaming down his face freely; his entire body was trembling with the effort of keeping himself under what little control he had left.

"It's okay, Harry," he heard Maggie's voice from far as she held him in a tight embrace, rocking back and forth as though he were a little child. They sat like this for while but Harry couldn't get a grip on himself.

"They're dead. All of them gone," he whispered and kept staring blankly at the opposite side of the room.

"I know," Maggie whispered and after a while she let go of him, still steadying him with one hand against his back when she handed him a glass filled with a yellowish liquid. "Drink this, Harry. It will make the demons go away. At least for a little while."

Harry drank the potion she gave him and it didn't take long until the world around him dissolved into the deepest shades of black.


	2. Mothers and Daughters

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! I was a little surprised to see that anybody actually seemed interested in my little story here. Curiously both of you had the same question... Well, I hope this answers it. Please... any reviews are greatly appreciated, since I'd really like to know what you think.

**Chapter Two**

Harry woke to the first rays of sunlight tickling his nose. He drew his hand out from underneath the comforting warm blanket and rubbed his nose in a sleepy attempt to chase off a fly that wasn't there. Taking in a deep breath after a huge yawn he let his eyes flutter open slowly and shut them the second the bright sunlight that was flooding the room met his gaze. He was tired and wanted to go back to sleep but as his consciousness was slowly beginning to wake inside him, the memories of the previous night's events came back and pictures began to form in front of his inner eye, pictures of a dying and eventually dead Dumbledore … the look on Snape's face as he was whispering the two words that extinguished the sparkle in the older wizard's blue eyes for ever. Abruptly he sat up in bed, swung his legs of the bed's edge, rested his elbows against his knees and buried his face in his hands. Even though the memories only returned slowly they were overwhelming and he found it most difficult to keep himself and his emotions under control.

A stabbing pain in his chest eventually brought him back to reality. Harry opened the shirt of the pajamas (which to his surprise he recognized as his own) he was wearing only to discover, that his ribcage had been neatly dressed with clean white bandages. Somebody obviously had even bothered to wash off all stains of dirt, dust and dried blood the previous night had left on him. Even though his head was hurting terribly he forced himself to take a closer look at his surroundings. The room wasn't exactly big and the furniture seemed rather antique all of it made of oak wood. To his utter surprise Harry found his trunk standing upright leaning against a wall right next to a rather old and worn looking leather armchair which accommodated some apparently freshly laundered clothing of his. All of his belongings had been brought to this place obviously. The only thing missing was Hedwig but Harry was sure, that whoever had brought his things might not have been bothered to think of a pet owl in all the confusion. Deciding that it was about time to get up and find out where Professor McGonagall had taken him, he dressed quickly and left the room.

"So, what happened?" Maggie eyed the older witch sitting on the chair next to her at the kitchen table with concern. Minerva looked older than usual and quite worn. Her face was pale and to Maggie it seemed as though the graying raven of her hair had brightened just bit more during the previous hours. Minerva had returned to the little cottage quite exhausted after long hours of talking to many officials who wanted answers, that she couldn't provide them with. Especially the Minister for Magic had given her a hard time.

"I'm not sure, Maggie," McGonagall sighed and sipped from her tea. Shaking her head, she continued after a few moments of steadying herself to hold back the tears so she could talk. "Albus always said that something like this might happen in the end. He never gave any details and whenever I would ask him why he was constantly getting himself in danger he smiled at me and told me that I'd know why."

"And do you? Know why?"

"Well he kept telling me that he wanted to lead Harry onto the right path, that he wanted him to understand what this war truly is about and why it has to be him who will eventually have to face the Dark Lord. But he… there…" Minerva found it constantly harder to talk. All the pain, tears and grief that she had kept hidden so well were hitting her now with full force and the first tear finally rolled down her pale cheek. "There was so little time for us…" she whispered and accepted the handkerchief Maggie was offering her gratefully. "Most of the time he was gone and no one knew where he was or what he was doing or even if he would ever return. Whenever he was home he was troubled and no matter how tired he was he spent hours and hours in his office going through ancient books for any clues and hardly ever found any." Minerva stopped as realization hit her. "It is all my fault, Maggie," she concluded eventually and no longer cared about keeping up the mask of a stern woman. Instead she allowed her tears to run freely.

"It's not!" Maggie said a little more harshly than she had intended to. "How could any of this be your fault?"

"I wasn't there for him when he needed me the most!" Minerva cried desperately. "I allowed him to send me away, allowed him to keep all these secrets that have cost him his life!"

"And still it's not your fault," Maggie tried to reason with the older witch, now also with tears in her eyes. "You know what he was like. If he was determined about something, he wouldn't allow anybody to intervene. Besides he was always more than willing to throw himself into any kind of danger if that meant that he could protect the ones closest to his heart."

For a while a heavy silence hung in the air and neither of the two women spoke a single word. Thoughts were racing through troubled minds and made grieving hearts even heavier with sorrow and pain.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" Minerva eventually broke the silence.

"I don't know," Maggie answered quietly and sighed heavily. "I mean … I don't think I've realized that he's really dead."

"I find it hard to believe myself," Minerva agreed and moved her chair a little closer to the younger witch.

"He was always there for me, when I needed him…" Maggie looked up at Minerva with tears in her eyes. "Both of you were."

"And I still am here for you and will always be," Minerva pulled her daughter into a tight embrace holding her close to herself. Both of them found comfort in each other's arms. "I love you," Minerva whispered close to her daughter's ear short before they let go of each other.

"Do you think we will live to see better times?" Maggie whispered hoarsely. "First Robert and Julie – now Dad! When will all of this come to an end, Mum? I couldn't stand the thought of anything happening to you or Harry! I've grown quite fond of him."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. But we've got to be strong now if we want to succeed. If we give up now, Voldemort will be victorious and we can't let that happen."

"I know! Dad has said the same thing a hundred times. And then he would tell me that everything was going to be just fine and offered me some sherbet lemons." Maggie had to smile at the memory of her father's enormous stock of sherbet lemons. As far as she could remember he had only run out of them once in those thirty-fife years that she had known him. "But honestly, mum. You look horrible. Don't you want to go and get some rest? Harry's in Julie's old bedroom but you could always sleep in my bed."

"Thank you, but I have to go back soon. I just want to talk to Harry and then I will most certainly have to answer many letters from desperate parents," Minerva sighed and let go of her daughter. "There's no time for rest now and besides I doubt that I could find any sleep anyway."

"Couldn't somebody else do that?"

"I'm afraid no. I'm in charge of the school now. I have to organize the f…" Minerva's voice died down and she started trembling. Slowly she sat down again, rested her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands. First her shoulders started trembling and quite soon her entire body was shaking with heavy sobs. Maggie could only stand there, one hand on her mother's shoulder while the other stroked softly over Minerva's graying raven hair.

"Come on, Mum. I'll take you to my bedroom and you will try and get some rest. Even a McGonagall is allowed to be weak at times like this," Maggie whispered gently, yet with a voice that didn't allow any arguing. Minerva simply nodded and allowed her daughter to help her get up from her chair. Quietly they made their short way to Maggie's bedroom where Maggie helped her mother out of her black robes and the boots as soon as she had sat down on the soft bed.

"Thank you, Maggie," Minerva said quietly and forced a small smile to appear on her lips.

"Just try to get some sleep, Mum," Maggie smiled and gently caressed the older woman's cheek.

"You're such a wonderful, strong, brave, young woman. I'm so grateful that I have you," Minerva whispered and kissed her daughter's forehead.

"Just like my mother. Although I believe that she's a hundred times the woman I am." Patting her mother's knee gently, she continued: "We'll get through this, Mum. The Dark Lord and his Death Eaters will have to pay the price for what they did." From the hall Maggie could hear steps on the stairs. "I think that's Harry coming down. Just call for me when you need anything." Giving her mother another kiss on her forehead, she exited the room and nearly bumped into Harry who was just standing outside the door. Quickly Maggie closed the door to her bedroom behind her and gave Harry a somewhat weak smile.

"Good morning, Harry. Did you sleep well?"

A/N: So what did you think? Use that cute little button down there and let me know - please:-)


	3. Who are you?

A/N: Well, here we go with another chapter:-) It should answer some questions but also give you some more – or at least I hope so.

AletaIIAnon: Sorry, Maggie's last isn't Smith, but you were right. Her first name is indeed a homage to the wonderful Maggie Smith who is a brilliant Minerva McGonagall (at least in my opinion).

Thanks for the reviews AletaIIAnon, XxcarbyxX and LinZE. You made my day.

Any more reviews are highly appreciated: for one because they truly make my day and then of course I'd still like to know what you guys think so far. I really need to know whether this is worth to be continued. And it doesn't take that much time to hit that little button down there, does it. ;-)

But now on to chapter three. I hope you'll enjoy!

**Chapter Three**

About ten minutes later Maggie and Harry had settled down in the kitchen, an awkward silence surrounding them as neither of them knew what to say. They were both busy trying to comprehend all of what had happened and they were both equally eager in their willingness to deny the brutal death of a father and a fatherly friend. Harry was positively confused and desperate. Why did it always have to happen to him? Why were people he loved and cared about always taken from him? What was his crime to deserve such punishment? Both his parents had died trying to protect him before he had had a chance to really get to know them and embed them in his memories himself. Everything he knew about his parents had been told to him and sometimes he lay awake in his bed at night trying to come up with a memory of his parents that was his and only his. But it was to no avail. No matter how hard he tried. Cedric Diggory – killed by Voldemort on that graveyard two years earlier. His death was also his, Harry's, fault, as it had been him who was insisting they'd both touch the cup at the same time – the cup that led Cedric to his tomb and enabled Voldemort to rise to power again. And then of course there was Sirius who had also died trying to protect him. There was one difference to his parents' deaths though. Sirius's death had been his, Harry's, fault. It was him who obliviously stepped into Voldemort's obvious trap and with it forced Sirius out of his hiding place to the Ministry where he met his fate. And now Dumbledore – killed by a man he had trusted. Harry wished he wouldn't have witnessed it. The sheer memory that he had been forced to watch the great wizard die, unable to do anything, bound by the last spell Dumbledore had cast. 'I am not worried, Harry. I am with you.' Dumbledore's words seemed to mock him now.

"Why?" The word had escaped his lips before Harry even knew it. Somewhat embarrassed by his slight outburst that had broken the uncomfortable silence he looked up at Maggie who at first didn't seem to react. Instead she got up from her seat and went to get some more tea and ginger newt for them both.

"I don't know," she answered his question quietly and sat down again. "I wish I knew the answer, but I'm afraid I don't."

Harry just stared at her. He wasn't quite sure whether she was simply trying to come up with an answer that in a way made sense or whether she really knew what he was thinking. "What answer?" he asked, eying her suspiciously. Had she been using Legilimency on him?

"Why all these people had to die." Maggie gave him a small smile and then continued to explain. "Don't worry. I can't read your mind, if that's what you're afraid of. But under the circumstances it's not too hard to guess what's going on in your mind, Harry." Harry just nodded. "Apart from that – how are you feeling Harry? Physically I mean?"

"I've been better," Harry admitted. "My head's killing me and those bandages make it kind of hard to breathe."

"I'll give you a potion that should help with your headache but I'm afraid I can't help you with your ribs. I guess you're lucky that none of them are broken." Maggie got up and went over to one of the kitchen cupboards. Opening it, she retrieved a bottle with a brownish shimmering fluid in it, uncorked it and handed it to Harry. "It's not a potion really. Just a tincture of herbs that'll make your headache go away. Oh and don't expect it to taste like pumpkin juice if you know what I mean."

"When will Professor McGonagall come back? I really need to talk to her. No offence, but I have to go back," Harry said before he took a sip from the bottle and winced at the disgusting taste of the remedy.

"Oh, none taken, Harry. Actually she's here right now, but she's asleep, I'm afraid or rather hope."

"I take it, the Minister gave her a hard time last night, didn't he," Harry mused and Maggie nodded in agreement.

"And there are other things on her hand now, too. Do you think you can wait until she's awake?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not if it was up to me, but yes you do. I do perfectly well understand your need to go back, even though I don't think it's wise to do so right now," Maggie said with a meaningful sigh. "Look, I've known you for a long enough time now to know about your need to get into things and to understand what's going on…" Maggie looked up and saw Harry starring at her skeptically. "What?"

"Have we met before?" Harry asked raising an eyebrow. "Because I can't remember seeing you before."

"Oh… um… well, no, we haven't. Of course not," Maggie stuttered somewhat helplessly. "But since I'm also a member of the Order I naturally do know a lot about you… so I guess it just feels as though I'd known you forever…" Maggie tried the feeble attempt of an explanation. However, the expression on Harry's face told her, that he didn't quite buy it.

"Then how come that I've never seen you at Headquarters? Do you even know where it is?" Harry could feel his temper rising. Something was wrong he could just feel it even though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Of course I know where it is. And we've never met because I … because I…"

"Yes?!"

"Well, because I …"

"Because Mrs. Cole was entrusted with a special task that didn't allow her to attend the meetings of the Order. Thus the two of you cannot have met before, can you? But rest assured Mr. Potter, that her loyalties without a doubt lie with us and you." Minerva McGonagall's sudden presence in the doorway that led into the kitchen made them both turn with a start.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry mumbled. "I didn't mean to be…"

"Rude? Well in that case it's not me you should apologize to but Mrs. Cole here." Turning to Maggie she added. "Would you have a cup of tea for an old tired woman, dear?" Minerva sat down on a chair next to Maggie's who had gotten up to fetch another cup for her mother. "Well, I'm afraid that I have to leave for Hogwarts quite soon. As a matter of fact I think that I should be there right now." She gave him a weak smile and then continued. "Harry, I know that you must be confused and upset and you will not like what I am about to say. It's all for your own safety. The task you are about to set out to is nearly impossible to accomplish and yet I know and Dumbledore knew it as well that you're the only person who has the slightest chance to come out of it successfully." She paused to drink from her tea and then continued. "Right now your highest priority should be to rest and give yourself some time to mourn the ones you've lost – we've lost. I don't think that will happen at your relatives' home."

"What I don't understand is why Dumbledore has changed his mind. I mean, he was always so insisting about me going back to the Dursleys' for the summer, that I don't understand why he'd allow me now to spend my holidays somewhere else."

"Actually this isn't Dumbledore's doing," Minerva admitted to Harry's great surprise. "It's mine. I reckon that you're really safest here despite the extra protection the Dursleys' home provides. You see, I think there are times when other things need protection than the physical wellbeing."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Your heart and soul, Harry. Answer me this. Can you walk with a broken leg?"

"No, I think…"

"You can't, of course. What I'm trying to say here is, that the wounds that have been opened and reopened need to close at least a little before you can consider to set out to do, what you're meant to do."

"Defeat Voldemort," Harry concluded with a nod. "But why here? Why not … I don't know … at the Weasleys' perhaps?"

"It's safer here," McGonagall answered at length with the result, that Harry was quite sure, that she was hiding something from him. Minerva got up from her seat. "I'm afraid I have to go back. Since the Minister is already quite upset with me refusing to tell him about your whereabouts, I should probably be there for his renewed attempt to squeeze the information as well as many others out of me." Minerva turned towards Maggie who was standing leaning against the kitchen counter and hugged her briefly. Harry was under the impression that she had whispered something into the other woman's ear, but he couldn't be sure.

"Take care of yourself," Maggie said before she let go of her mother.

"I will. I shall see both of you tonight then," Minerva said and Disapparated.

The day passed awfully slow for Harry. Most of the time he spent in 'his' room thinking. Although the silence in the small room sometimes threatened to deafen him, he was glad that he didn't have to be a part of an insignificant conversation that someone forced upon him. Maggie had told him, that he should make himself at home and that he could do whatever he wanted to do. Maggie. Without realizing it, Harry had spent the better part of the day wondering about her. He couldn't really put a finger on it, but in a way she seemed so familiar, as though he had known her for a long time. She was easy to be around and she refused to ask him any questions that he wasn't really willing to answer. Actually she just left him to himself with the unspoken offer that she'd be there for him whenever he needed her.

Eventually day turned into night without another sign from Professor McGonagall. Harry went to bed early feeling emotionally drained and physically exhausted. But sleep wouldn't grant him its mercy and after staring at the alarm clock on the nightstand for hours he eventually got up and went downstairs. Everything in the small cottage was dark and as he was passing Maggie's bedroom he noticed that she had left her bedroom door open just a little. Quietly he made his way into the kitchen and left the cottage through the backdoor. The garden wasn't big but Harry walked past a couple of beds with all kinds of herbs. Eventually he sat down underneath a very old and very tall weeping willow. Leaning his back against its trunk he stared upon the moonlit surface of the small pond that stretched out underneath the long branches of the tree. Listening to the choir of the frogs croaking somewhere in their hiding places in the thick reeds and the crickets chirping in the high grass he closed his eyes and allowed his pain and grief to take hold of him. Memories old and recent ones washed over him and caused heavy tears to run freely down his cheeks. He so whished that there was someone to lean on to, someone who didn't ask any questions, someone who would simply join him in his silent lament. So deep in thought he never noticed the quiet whistle of wings breaking the night air until he felt something landing on his outstretched leg. With a start he opened his eyes and saw Hedwig sitting on his knee, her head tilted to the side, watching him closely. Harry stroked her feathers, which were glowing in an almost unreal shade of white underneath the moonlight. Hedwig spread her wings to fly the short distance onto Harry's shoulder where she landed and nibbled his ear affectionately. With the hint of a smile he turned his head and stared out upon the reflection of stars dancing on the dark water's surface once again. At least one wish had come true.

A/N: Remember, that little button down there can really make an old woman's day. ;-)


	4. In the End

A/N: Again, thanks for your reviews! You guys really made my day. Just keep them coming! ;-)

This chapter will reveal some of Maggie's past. I've tried to set the dates as accurately as possible, but I usually have a tendency to get mixed up easily when it comes to numbers. Just a warning.

I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, though.

**Chapter Four**

**October 25th, 1987**

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Robert leaned down to gently kiss his wife's forehead.

"Morning," came the muffled reply.

"I take it you we're out all night again," Robert grinned sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Come on, darling. Breakfast's waiting."

"Come on Rob. It's Sunday morning. Let me sleep. Just a little longer." Maggie drew the blankets up to her nose.

"Well, since Julie is playing with her grandfather I believe you could probably sleep a little longer," Robert mused, grinning sheepishly.

"Mom and Dad are here?" Maggie sat up straight in bed. "When did they arrive?"

"Two hours ago…"

"Rob! Why didn't you wake me?! Julie has probably turned yellow by now with Dad feeding her his damn sherbet lemons." Maggie stormed out of bed and toward the door, when Robert held her back.

"Wait a second, honey," he smiled at her holding her by her wrists. "First I want to wish the most wonderful wife a man could ask for a happy birthday." He kissed her softly on the lips but drew back quickly before neither of them had the chance to deepen the kiss. "And second, as much as I appreciate the sight – you should probably consider to wear at least your dressing gown, as I am not entirely sure that your father would appreciate you yelling at him for feeding our daughter sherbet lemons in your glorious nakedness." Grinning he let go of her. Maggie instantly blushed several shades of red. "See you in a minute," Robert smiled and left their bedroom, not without taking a last glance at his wife's body.

Ten minutes later Maggie joined her family in the living room. To her great relief, Julie hadn't turned an unhealthy shade of yellow. Sitting on her grandfather's lap, she listened, with eyes and mouth wide open, to a fairytale he was telling her, while she was subconsciously playing with the old man's long gray beard. With a smile Maggie watched her father and her seven year old daughter. True, Julie hadn't been planned, given the fact, that Maggie had only been eighteen when Julie was born. But then again she really could count herself lucky. Robert had married her and her parents had helped her through the nine months of a very difficult pregnancy. Especially Minerva had always been there for her.

"Grandpa? I want to go to Hogwarts, too!" Julie's voice broke through the mist of Maggie's thoughts. "Mummy says that I'm really smart," she added proudly and gave her grandfather a pleading look.

"I'm afraid, you'll have to wait another four years, Julie," Maggie answered her daughter's question before Albus even had the chance to part his lips.

"Mummy!!!" Julie hopped down from her grandpa's lap and stormed towards her mother, who stretched her arms out to welcome the little hurricane storming toward her at quite an advanced speed. Squeaking with delight she jumped into her mother's arms who hugged her tightly to herself. "Happy birthday, mummy," Julie whispered into Maggie's ear and with an excited grin on her lips she asked "Can I give you your present now?"

"Thank you sweetie," Maggie smiled at her little girl and then, still holding Julie in her arms, she eventually turned to greet her parents. After exchanging hugs and family kisses with Albus and Minerva, Maggie put Julie down. "Let's have breakfast then. I'm starving," she announced and led the way to the kitchen.

When the entire family had gathered around the kitchen table, Julie handed Maggie a quite untidily wrapped present with a huge yellow ribbon, which was way too large for the size of the gift. "Open it!" she ordered her mother who obeyed her happily. Maggie took her time unwrapping the gift, knowing that it would positively make her daughter go nuts with excitement. Eventually she retrieved a framed picture; the frame had been painted in all colors imaginable and the picture showed her own husband and daughter laughing, smiling and waving at her.

"Thank you, honey," Maggie said with a tear in the corner of her eye and kissed her daughter's red cheek.

Two hours later Albus and Maggie had retired to the living room while Minerva, Robert and Julie had left for the nearby playground. Maggie always enjoyed the little time alone she had with her father even though they were talking Order business quite often. And it wasn't any different on her birthday.

"Long night?" Albus asked, sipping his pumpkin juice which he'd always preferred over the normal beverages for adults. "You look tired."

"Well, I am," Maggie admitted with a sigh. "It's not easy to keep an eye on him, since his relatives are doing quite a good job of keeping him out of anybody's view. Actually I hardly ever get to see him."

"Have you talked to Arabella recently?"

"Only last night, actually. She told me that they're still treating him just the same…" Maggie's face showed anger, hatred and worry all at the same time. "I just don't understand why you're being so stubborn about him staying with these dreadful muggles! His older cousin is bullying him and don't even ask about his aunt and uncle! For Merlin's sake, dad, they're treating him worse than a spider that's just being stomped on!"

"Meg…"

"Oh, don't 'Meg' me, dad! I know what you're about to say and I'm tired of hearing it." Maggie jumped up from her armchair and began pacing the room. "It's for his own good! He's safer with them than he'd be in our world… blablabla…" Eventually she came to a halt right in front of the window and stared out of it, watching the setting of the sun. "They're torturing him, dad. You're supposed to be one of the most powerful wizards of our time. Then why aren't you doing anything about it?" A silent tear rolled down her cheek and she folded her arms right underneath her breasts, as though she was trying to hug herself to have at least some kind of comfort.

"I'm sorry, Meg, but that's just the way it is and you know it." Albus had also gotten up from his seat and now stood behind Maggie, his hands resting on her shaking shoulders, trying to give her some kind of comfort.

"And who put you in charge of his case?" Maggie turned abruptly to face her father, furious and unmasked anger written all over her face.

"The law, darling. It states that any child, whose parents die, will have to stay with their next living relatives." Albus softly caressed his daughter's cheek and tried to give her a somewhat reassuring smile.

"I'm sorry, dad. I didn't mean to yell at you, but I just don't understand it," Maggie said with a quieter voice.

"Tell me about it. Your mother has held me entire speeches, trying to convince me, that Harry would be better of growing up with people of our kind."

"And she's right, you know? I'd be happy to have him here! He and Julie – they could grow up like brother and sister. We could probably even change his last name just to make sure, that none of _his_ followers finds out where he is…" Tears were running down her cheeks freely now and threw herself against her father's broad chest who welcomed her with comforting arms. "I can't watch him suffer night after night, dad. I just can't."

"Then probably somebody else should do the nightshifts from now on," Albus mused but all he got was a pair of fuming green eyes. "I never considered this an option, though, knowing my daughter…" he quickly corrected himself with a smile and kissed Maggie's forehead. "I'm sorry, honey. I wish there was something I could do," he whispered close to her ear and held her even tighter.

"Are you okay, mummy?" The sudden appearance of the Julie in the room, made both adults jump, but they quite quickly steadied themselves again.

"Yeah, I'm fine, sweetheart. Did you have fun grandma and dad?" Maggie knelt down and opened her arms, an invitation Julie accepted happily. She basically flew into her mother's embrace and kissed both of her cheeks several times.

"We had a lot of fun," Julie grinned mischievously. "Daddy fell off the swing and accidentally blew up the slide… I guess grandma was lucky. She only got off it a second before it blew up."

"Be so kind and remind me to not let you go to the playground with your grandmother and father ever again," Maggie sighed, her right eyebrow raised, rolling her eyes.

"But I want to," Julie protested immediately and started to laugh when she saw the twinkle in her mother's eyes, that always appeared when she wasn't one hundred percent serious about what she was saying. "Give grandma and grandpa a kiss good bye, honey. They have to go back."

"Oh, can I go with them, please? I want to see the students and the ghosts and the Great Hall and the Quidditch pitch and Hagrid! Although…" Julie interrupted herself, obviously thinking. "I wouldn't want another of his cookies."

"As impressive as your plea is, honey, but I'm afraid it's about time for you to go to bed, too."

"Are you reading something to me?" Julie pleaded with her mother, but to her great dismay Maggie shook her head.

"Sorry, Julie. But I have to go to work.

"Then at least leave the poor little mice be, mummy," Julie scowled but said no more.

"I'll try to behave myself," Maggie reassured her. Minerva and Robert had also joined them during her little chat with her daughter.

"We really should be off, Albus," Minerva reminded Albus with a smile.

"Me too," Maggie sighed and got up from her kneeling position. "You listen to your father, Julie and you," she said, giving her husband the same stern look that mother could produce so well "don't let our little one stay up for too long. She needs her sleep."

"Yes, ma'am," Robert grinned and kissed his wife good bye.

"Give your grandmother a hug, sweetie," Minerva said, smiling at her granddaughter and Albus was heard mumbling something like 'Grandpa wants one too' with the result, that Julie found herself giving both of her grandparents one big hug.

"Good night then, Robert," Albus said with a smile to his son in law.

"Good night Albus. Minerva!" Robert drew Maggie close to himself once more. "Be careful, darling. And try to heed our daughter's words. Leave the poor mice be."

"I will," Maggie grinned and gave her husband another kiss before she Disapparated with her parents.

Turning to Julie, Robert said "Fancy some hot chocolate and a nice little story in front of a crackling fire in our fireplace?"

Maggie was sitting in her usual hiding place close to number four, Privet Drive, Little Whining, Surrey. The new day was already dawning. She was worried. There'd been no sign of Harry Potter all night and she was quite sure, that his muggle relatives had given him another of their infamous detentions – meaning, that they'd probably locked him up once again in the cupboard under the stairs. But as it was her habit, she waited until Harry would leave the house to go to school, which he eventually did a little earlier than usual. 'How small he is,' Maggie thought, thinking back to the conversation she had had with her father the evening before. To her relief she found, that he was unharmed and looking as happy as possible under the given circumstances. Maggie waited a little while longer, just to make sure that Harry got to the bus station alright, before she Apparated home.

When Maggie came back home, she immediately knew that something was very wrong. When she approached the cottage, she noticed that the front door was open just a little bit. Hesitantly she walked inside, calling Robert's and Julie's names, but never got an answer. Slowly she walked towards the living room, which she found deserted and so was the kitchen. Fear washed over her and engulfed her soul and very slowly she proceeded to hers and Robert's bedroom. It too was empty. The bed was untouched. Fear turned into desperation.

"Robert? Julie?" Maggie uttered their names very quietly as though she was afraid of drawing too much attention to herself. But she didn't get any answers. Step by step she took the stairs up to Julie's room. The door was closed. Her hand was trembling as she turned the doorknob and entered. The curtains were still drawn. "Julie?" she whispered against the dim light and looking around her gaze fell upon a still figure lying on the floor. Maggie didn't turn the lights on, just stormed toward the lifeless body on the ground and kneeled down next to it. "Robert?" She shook her husband by his shoulders but he wouldn't stir. "No," she gasped and began scanning the room with tears in her eyes. Only a moment later she discovered Julie's still form, still lying in her bed. Quickly she rushed toward her daughter, shook her by her shoulders even slapped her pale cheeks, trying to wake her. But it was to no avail. She too was dead. There were no tears – just a scream of pain as a heart broke into a thousand pieces.

A/N: Care to make my day just a little better? Then just hit that little review button down there. I'm quite sure it won't take you as long as it took me to write this chapter. ;-)

6


	5. Hedwig

A/N: I am so sorry, that this took so long. I had this chapter finished last night, but then decided that I didn't like it, so I rewrote it. This is what I've come up with. Hope you'll like it. Thank you so much to those who reviewed. It is greatly appreciated. Keep them coming. ;-)

**Chapter F****ife**

Harry woke with a start when he felt something rather wet and quite slimy all over his face. Opening his eyes, he found himself face to face with a large gray wolf that was contently licking his face. However, Harry by far didn't feel as much at ease around the animal as the wolf obviously did around him. He tried to get up, but was trapped between the wolf and the trunk of the enormous weeping willow underneath which he had obviously spent the better part of the night. The wolf just kept staring at him, obviously disappointed that he wasn't allowed to 'wash' his opposite's face any longer and tilted his head to the side, watching him out of big yellow eyes. Harry felt his chance had come. Very slowly he started to get up, his right arm outstretched towards the wolf, as if he wanted to keep the animal at bay, in case of an attack.

"Fynn! Come over here you bloody son of a dragon egg!" Maggie's voice echoed loudly through the garden, disturbing the quiet of the early morning hour. "Not showing up for three entire days and now you're scaring the guts out of our guest! I thought a wolf your age would be smarter than that!" The wolf rather slowly trudged toward where Maggie was standing, leaning against the frame of the back door. Shaking her head, she proceeded toward Harry, not without casting an angry look at the wolf, who had sat down next to a small flowerbed. "Sorry about that. I should have told you about that old rascal," Maggie apologized to Harry as soon as she had approached him. "You didn't spend the whole night out here, did you?"

"I'm afraid, yes," Harry mused at the same time trying to stretch his stiffened limbs. Suddenly a memory from last night hit him and he began looking around, taking in his surroundings, obviously looking for something. "Where is she?" he muttered after a while.

"Where is who?" Maggie asked in surprise. "If you're referring to Minerva, she has not come back yet."

"No. Hedwig! My owl. She was here last night, trying to …" but Harry stopped mid-sentence. Strangely enough, Maggie didn't dwell on it, even though she hesitated before speaking again.

"Well, why don't you come inside and have a cup of tea, Harry? You must be frozen to your bones, after spending all night out here… Besides – Professor McGonagall sent her patronus a few minutes ago and I think that you'll be quite interested in the message it left." With a small smile, Maggie turned to go back inside, closely followed by Fynn who was obviously on the lookout for some food. From inside Harry could hear Maggie informing her 'pet' about his choices for breakfast and as she eventually suggested a nice piece of tender deer's flank, the wolf yelped excitedly. Waving the first shock of the morning off, he proceeded to follow Maggie and Fynn inside where Maggie was still busy slicing the flesh whereas Fynn staged a somewhat strange dance around her legs apparently in order to convince her, that he was perfectly capable of tearing the flesh apart by himself. "Old wolves with dull teeth generally prefer pieces to chew on," Maggie told the wolf who just kept wagging his tail with growing excitement at the prospect of fresh food. "There you go," she said as she was eventually finished chopping the flesh and set the plate on the floor. Hungrily the wolf attacked his 'prey' while Maggie turned to fetch two cups and a pot of freshly brewed strong tea.

With a suspicious eye firmly locked on the large yet peacefully eating animal in the far corner of the room, Harry went toward the old kitchen table. Sitting down he watched Maggie as she kept herself busy preparing breakfast for both of them. Only then he noticed that her eyes were red and swollen and she was a lot paler than he remembered her from the day before.

"Did you know him?" he finally asked her, when she sat down, adding milk and sugar to her tea. Surprised she looked up at him with a puzzled look. "Professor Dumbledore," Harry added, but the look in her eyes told him, that she knew exactly who he was talking about.

"I am in the Order, so yes, I knew him," she said at length, avoiding looking him directly in the eyes.

"I don't want to be nosy…" Harry hesitated before he continued. "But I have the feeling you knew him a little better than just any ordinary member of the Order."

"Then don't be, Harry!" she snapped but immediately regretted her outburst. "Sorry," she muttered under her breath, her fingers literally cramping around her mug. "It's just … it has been very difficult lately."

"How come I've never seen you before? It seemed that you and Professor McGonagall are rather … close so it would figure that I'd have seen you there every once in while," Harry mused and sipped his tea.

"All right," Maggie sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair. "Someone certainly is going to have my head for telling you this, but I think you deserve to know the truth."

"Know the truth about what?" Harry felt his temper rise. He hated it when he was being kept in the dark about something and now it seemed that yet another thing he hadn't known about would finally be brought to light.

"About me," Maggie said quietly and eventually dared to look Harry in the eye. "You see, I am an Animagus."

"So?"

"I really don't know how to tell you this, Harry, so I think I'll just show you." Letting out a nervous sigh, Maggie got up and cast the quiet spell over herself that would turn her into her Animagus form. Almost immediately she began to shrink, her black robes and hair turning into white feathers with dark spots here and there, her delicate nose seemed to join with her thin lips, turning into a short black beak, while her eyes grew bigger, their mossy green vanishing, leaving them in a deep shade of amber. When the transformation was finished, the snowy owl flew up on top of the kitchen table, hopped toward Harry and began nibbling his ear affectionately as only one owl in the entire world could do it.

"Hedwig?" Harry gasped in shock, not quite sure what to think of this revelation. His Hedwig an Animagus? It was impossible. It couldn't be! After all he should have noticed at some point. Of course it was possible for an Animagus to keep his animal form for years, Peter Pettigrew being the one that sprang to his mind instantly, but he just couldn't understand, why a beautiful young woman would sacrifice a somewhat normal life (as normal as it would ever get in the wizarding world) to be stuck in a tiny cage for years as his pet owl. "This is Dumbledore's doing, isn't it," he growled and jumped up from his chair, making Maggie or rather Hedwig at this point jump. "I can't believe he's fooled me for all these years…," he went on, anger burning his insides with bright white flames of rage. "I told you all my secrets and I bet you had nothing better to do than to fly off and tell him everything." Harry was at the verge of tears, furious with Dumbledore, who had him spied on for only Merlin knows how long and with himself, for not being able to hold back the tears that were running down his burning cheeks freely. "HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME?"

"It was not Dumbledore, Harry!" Maggie had transformed back to her human form and now stood next to the table, holding on to it tightly. "I'll try to explain everything if you let me," she pleaded with him, furiously trying to blink back her own tears. "And I never betrayed your trust. Not once."

"_Don't_ make up any lame excuses. I'm so tired of hearing them," Harry sneered.

"I won't. I promise. Just sit down and hear me out. Please," Maggie begged and sat down herself, hoping Harry would follow her example.

"Try and I'll be out of here before you can say _betrayal_," he snapped and sat down stiffly.

"It all goes back to the day your parents were killed," Maggie started and paused at this, as if she was hoping or rather dreading any kind of reaction from Harry. When she got none, she continued. "Albus insisted on leaving you with these horrible Muggles and no one could talk him out of it, not even the ones he would normally listen to. Minerva was there that night, too when he left you at your relatives house and she too was desperately trying to convince him, that it would be better for you if you grew up amongst people of your own kind. She had been spying on them all day long and she had seen what they were like – the most horrifying kind of Muggles you could ever imagine. She had even suggested to Albus to bring you up herself or rather leave you somewhere, where she knew you would be loved and where you would have had a chance to grow up with a child your age."

Harry listened with silent wonder. He caught himself imagining what it would have been like, to not grow up at the Dursleys', as he had done a million times before and yet he was amazed at the fact that the always stern and strict Minerva McGonagall had offered to bring him up by herself. "Where did she want to leave me? With the Weasleys?"

"No. Molly and Arthur had their hands full with seven of their own children." Maggie looked down, trying to wipe her eyes unnoticed by Harry. If he did see it, he didn't say anything. "She wanted to leave you with my husband, my little girl and myself," Maggie continued after steadying herself somewhat. "You see, I was married, had a daughter who was only slightly younger than you were back then. Minerva, Robert and I we had it all figured out and it really wouldn't have been too difficult to disguise you – both your physical appearance and your family background. But as I've said before, Albus would hear none of it. After Hagrid, Albus and Minerva had left, the first two headed towards Hogwarts, Minerva came here. She was angry with Albus, I had never seen her like this before and haven't since. Actually," Maggie managed a slight grin at the memory "Madame Pomfrey has told me a couple of days later, that she had treated Albus for a serious number of long and nasty scratches all over his face, arms and legs. You might guess what cat inflicted these on him." The grind faded and Maggie went on with a tale, that had stayed untold for too long. "That night we decided that you couldn't be left with these Muggles without someone to watch over you. We figured out a plan, that even found the headmaster's agreement: Mrs. Figgs would watch you at daytime and at nights, a snowy owl would be somewhere around No. 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. As the years went by, we kept arguing with Albus. I told him what I had witnessed and so did Arabella but he was too stubborn to be reasoned with. He kept telling us, that we could never provide you with the protection you had at your aunt's and uncle's house. Unfortunately a few years later he was proved correct." Maggie stopped and drew in a deep breath as if she was afraid of going on with her tale. Steeling herself once more, Maggie continued anyway. "It was my birthday. As usual I left just when the sun was setting. When I came home the next morning I found …" She closed her eyes for a moment. Opening them again, tears clearly visible now, she said "I found my husband and daughter dead in her bedroom. Killed by Death Eaters. They had sent me warnings, told me that I should give away your whereabouts, as they were unable to find you. Well, I didn't tell them and that's what I got."

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered hoarsely. "Did they ever find out who killed them?"

"Of course not. The ministry didn't show any particular interest in the case and the Wizengamot eventually concluded that the Death Eaters in question would be imprisoned by now anyway."

"Then why did you go on? After losing your family and all, I thought you'd probably stop keeping an eye on me for Dumbledore."

"Well, that would have meant to betray both Robert and Julie. You see, they always supported me and especially Julie was so proud, that her own mother had been chosen to watch over the infamous Harry Potter. So I kept going on until you turned eleven. I was left with a choice then. Either I would return to my own miserable little life where there was nothing left to return to or I'd take it one step further and become your pet owl. As I had grown quite fond of you I decided for the latter. Haven't you ever wondered, why Hagrid presented you with your pet?"

"Not really, given the fact that Hedwig … or rather you … the owl … Anyway! It was a birthday gift," Harry stated, somewhat confused.

"It figures. So. That's it. That's the tale of your owl. I hope it didn't sound like making up lame excuses."

"Just one more thing," Harry said and frowned. "How much _did_ you tell them?"

"Well," Maggie grinned with a sparkle in her green eyes. "In case you're referring to a certain red haired young lady and what you told me about her… nothing. I suppose there are just a few things that should stay between a man and his owl."

"Certainly," Harry agreed, blushing several shades of red, remembering how much he had actually told Hedwig about his feelings for Ginny Weasley.

"So, how angry are you?"

"I'm not angry. Just surprised." Harry paused, pondering the question he was about to ask for the millionth time since he had accidentally overheard some of the talk between his professor and Maggie the previous morning. "He was your father, wasn't he?" he eventually queried quietly, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

"How did you figure it out?" Maggie gasped in shock.

"Well, you're acting like someone who has just lost someone very close to her and besides I heard bits and pieces when you were talking to Professor McGonagall yesterday morning."

"Did you. Well, I guess there's no point denying it then, is there. Yes, Albus Dumbledore was my father and the love and life of a certain headmistress who happens to be my mother. But that's just to complete the shock for you." Maggie shook her head and sighed in frustration. "Mum's going to kill me for telling you!" she exclaimed in defeat. "I'm just glad that I'm no one's secret keeper. I'd be dead by now."

"Well, don't worry," Harry said, a slight grin curving his lips. "There were rumors about Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall for years. I think they deemed themselves going unnoticed a little too often."

"It is difficult to hide a love that went down so deep," Maggie nodded, once again at the brink of tears. Sighing, she steadied herself and remembered that she had originally intended to talk to Harry about something else. "About that patronus mum sent earlier – she informed me, that she'd be here around noon and she won't come alone. Apparently she'll be accompanied by some of your friends. Ron, Hermione and Ginny are coming. And until then I suggest you go wash up and change. I don't want to be rude, but it's quite obvious where you've spent the night," she grinned, got up and in order to pet him went over to Fynn, who was sleeping soundly on his pillow. This way Harry at least had some privacy as he blushed several shades of red.

A/N: Reviews, please? It's not that I'm desperate or anything …


	6. Truths

Chapter Six

"The news have spread like a wildfire," Hermione exclaimed exasperatedly once she, Ron, Ginny and Harry had settled themselves underneath the nearly ancient weeping willow near the little pond outside in the garden. The fog of the early morning hours had cleared along with many questions, that had bothered Harry for quite a while. "The ministry is in an uproar. Rumor has it, that the Minister even threatened to fire McGonagall or even have her arrested because she refused to tell him, where she'd taken you."

Harry just sat there, listening to what news his friends had to tell. Ginny sat next to him in the soft green grass, her head resting contently on his shoulder while there hands laid entwined on his leg. Other than her brother or Hermione she kept her quiet, apparently at ease now that she was with the boy she loved ever since she had first laid her eyes upon him.

"The weirdest thing was when Dobby came to the dorms in the middle of the night and asked us to come to Dumbledore's office…" Ron was so focused on telling his part of the tale, that he never noticed Harry flinch slightly at the mentioning of Dumbledore's name and just kept going. "So the three of us went there, in our pajamas, mind you, and next I know is McGonagall telling us something about taking you somewhere safe, that we weren't supposed to ask any questions, because she wouldn't give us any answers anyway. All in good time. She kept repeating that like a mantra. And then today after breakfast she drew us out of the Great Hall into a broom closet and told us that we were to meet her in her office right after lunch. Next thing – we're here." Ron paused and looked around frowning. "Where are we anyway?" He looked expectantly at Harry, who had only listened to his friends blabber half heartedly.

"Ron," Hermione sighed and shook her head in earnest. "Look. Don't you think that Professor McGonagall has her reasons as to why she's not telling us where exactly we are? Harry is in hiding, so she couldn't tell us, could she?" Hermione now looked at Harry, expecting him to at least nod his head to show that he agreed with her.

"Why's he here, anyway? There is no safer place than Hogwarts," Ron stated before Harry had so much as a chance to reply.

"Oh Ron! You still haven't figured it out, have you?! It's so obvious! The ministry is after Harry and only Merlin knows why. After all that has happened I wouldn't be surprised to find out, that the Ministry is in You-Know-Who's hands after all."

"Why would the Ministry be after me?" Harry asked, suddenly a little more interested in the conversation than only moments before.

"I don't know!" Hermione admitted in defeat. "But there are only two possibilities, really. Either, they think you know how to defeat You-Know-Who or … oh I don't know what it could be."

"Any news on Snape?"

"Only rumors, really," Hermione shrugged. "They say he's officially rejoined the Death Eaters and that's it. They haven't found him yet, although there are a lot of Aurors and other Ministry officials after him."

Silence fell over the friends as each of them relived their own memories of the events a couple of nights previous. Somehow all of them had been involved in one way or another and it eventually had hit them all, what loss really meant. Harry had experienced it before, while Ron, Ginny and Hermione had never really experienced a pain deep down inside that only death could bring. None of them had been as close to Dumbledore as Harry, but the old wise wizard had had his very own unique way to leave and impression with everyone who found himself in the pleasure of his presence. And then there was Harry who at last knew, that his life had changed forever. His childhood and youth had ended in his fifth year at Hogwarts and sometimes he felt tempted to think that he never really had had a childhood in the first place. One year of love, nurture and care was all he had on that chart and to make it worse, he couldn't remember a single one of those precious days. The only childhood memory from his time before living with the Dursleys was a flash of green light – the curse that had killed his mother.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Ginny's voice brought him back from his reverie. He turned his head to look at her, as she raised her hand to cup his cheek in it, with her thumb secretly whipping away a tear, that had escaped his eye. He nodded, but he could see in her eyes, that she wasn't satisfied with his simple answer to her query.

"When will the funeral be held?" Harry asked in an attempt to distract Ginny from asking any further questions.

"Tomorrow," Hermione answered at once. "Hagrid's kept himself busy overseeing the preparations. Afterwards we're all going to be sent home." She paused and looked up at Harry, frowning. "What about you? Do you know whether you will be able to attend the funeral? And where will you spend the summer?"

"You sound just like Ron," Ginny stated with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know and I don't know. I'll have to talk to McGonagall."

"Which reminds me," Ron piped up after keeping his silence for a surprisingly long span of time. "Who is this woman anyway? McGonagall's said, she's a member of the order."

"She is," Harry said and couldn't help it but had to grin. "And all of you know her quite well."

meanwhile inside

"I've told him," Maggie said after sinking in one of the old armchairs in the living room, not quite sure whether she was ready for the consequences of her confession.

"You did what?" Minerva snapped, her eyes opened wide in disbelief. "Maggie! I've asked you not to tell him. He shouldn't have known."

"And why, pray tell, should he not have known?" Maggie's voice had risen slightly.

"He wouldn't understand. He's become rather sensitive in that matter, because he thinks that no one trusts him."

"And obviously he's right! By Merlin's beard! Mum, he's not a child anymore. He deserves to know the truth, whether you like it or not. And for your information. Harry took it quite well. He's still talking to me after all."

"But…" Minerva began, but was interrupted by a glare of her daughter, that could easily have passed as one of her own.

"Don't you see? The times of protection Harry Potter are over. Even dad knew that. It's time that we began to support him, rather than keeping him in leading strings!"

"So I take it you've also already offered him to teach him your bit of magic," Minerva growled, digging her fingers deeply into the armrest of her chair.

"Not yet."

"And why, pray tell, haven't you? I thought you'd consider him oh so mature and ready for everything," Minerva snapped, gnashing her teeth behind lips that formed a very thin line.

"Mum." Maggie moved in her chair, so that she could take her mother's hands in hers and stroke their backs with her thumbs. "You know that I would never betray your trust and that I would never do anything to hurt you. But I know Harry in a different way than you do. I saw the pain in his eyes, I was there when he was crying his eyes outs in many nights after Sirius had died. I've seen him nearly break every summer when he had to return to his relatives. I was always there and I have to admit that I feel right guilty about making him believe his pet owl was nothing but a pet owl, which he confided all his biggest secrets and yearnings to. And every time I showed up with you and dad to make my reports on him, I felt like I was betraying his trust."

"You know what? You're right, Maggie. We probably should have played with open cards from the beginning."

"There's one more thing, though."

"What?"

"I think it would be appropriate if we left the decision as to where he is going to spend his summer to Harry. He'll come of age in less than a month and then he'll be free to do whatever he wants."

"We can't! It's impossible. He simply _has_ to stay here," Minerva said indignantly, feeling the temper rise that she had been trying to keep in check for last couple of days.

"Alright then," Maggie snapped and let go of her mother's hands. "But go and tell him without giving him a reason because I am certainly not doing it. Which reminds me!" Maggie sighed and slapped her forehead. "I couldn't tell him anyway since I don't even know what's going on," Maggie yelled at her mother, watching her closely, anger flickering vividly in her green eyes. The fact that Minerva apparently didn't even consider answering her and that she was evading her eyes, made her only the more furious. "TALK TO ME!"

"Margaret Elisabeth Cole! Don't you dare and talk to me like that," the older witch hissed, her eyes shooting daggers at the younger one. "Now hold your tongue and listen. Maybe you'll understand." Glancing around nervously, Minerva heaved herself out of the armchair and started pacing the room. "I have reason to believe that You-Know-Who is using the Ministry to get his hands on Harry."

"Who or what would make you believe this?" Maggie's voice barely rose above a whisper, all the anger and rage now replaced by a mask of evident disbelief and shock.

"Your father, as a matter of fact. I never really wanted to tell you this, but you don't leave me with a choice here." Minerva now stood by the window, looking out into a beautiful summer's day, that betrayed her own feelings of desperation and a pain, she had never known before. "He knew, that his time had come, he had known for a long time," she said at length, her voice thick and shaky. The aura of strength that had always surrounded the proud witch was gone and left her a fragile woman. "And I did, too."

"Why have you never told me?" Maggie asked in a quiet voice.

"Because we know you. You would have tried to find a way around it, make your father live where he had no chance to survive. The Horcurx killed him, Maggie and he didn't die instantly because of the potion Severus kept brewing for him. I'm glad you didn't get to see your father the way I did. He was broken, constantly in pain, hardly ever found sleep at night. He kept pushing himself over his limits every time he left Hogwarts, sometimes for days without letting anybody know where he went. But eventually he told me, what he was trying to do. Albus kept looking for Horcruxes and at the same time he kept his eyes closely on the Ministry, trying to figure out what they were up to. When he eventually found out …"

"Bloody hell!" Ron stomped into the living room; his eyes wide open as well as his mouth, interrupting his professor in mid-sentence.

"RON! You can't just burst in there," Hermione's voice could be heard from the hallway, getting constantly louder as she was approaching the living room herself. Harry and Ginny followed her and the three of them came to abrupt halt in the doorway, as the watched Ron walking up to Maggie, who was looking at him rather curiously and little annoyed.

"You don't even look like her!" he exclaimed and ruffled his hair with his hand.

"Excuse my ignorance young mister, but what are you talking about?" Maggie inquired, her left eyebrow raised high.

"Blimey! You're Hedwig! Well, not right now, obviously, but you're Harry's owl! I can't believe it." Ron tumbled backwards and dropped onto the couch. "I've known you for years and never figured it out!"

"Well, that was part of the plan, I suppose," Hermione again shook her head, once again bewildered by Ron's refusal to simply think.

"I want to apologize for interrupting this moment of enlightenment, but I have to go back to Hogwarts," Minerva spoke and got up from her armchair. Looking at her students she immediately saw the disappointment in their eyes as she announced their departure. "If Mrs. Cole here doesn't object, you can stay here and come back to Hogwarts tomorrow for the funeral. I trust you have a lot to talk about." Recognizing the look on Harry's face she added "And you can come too, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry gave the older witch a slight smile and without realizing it, he squeezed Ginny's hand in his slightly.

"I shall talk to your parents then," she said and turned to Maggie once more. "I'll see you tomorrow, dear. And make sure that you come in a proper disguise." With this said, Minerva disappeared.

"And now," Maggie spoke up, addressing the four of them. "I think it's time for some answers."

A/N: Reviews, please?

6


	7. Choices & Pain

**Chapter Seven**

**Choices & Pain**

"I recommend you stay seated, Ronald, since I believe you're not going to take what I've got to say well," Maggie frowned and once again occupied her previously deserted armchair.

"Well, answers sound good to me," Ron mused and waited for the other three to sit down, too.

"Well, Ronald, you're quite right. I am Hedwig, or rather a human being, that appears to have the Animagus form of a snowy owl. It's a long story, really, and I'm not going to go into details right now, seeing that there are more important things that require our attention now." Eyeing Harry suspiciously, she addressed him. "You didn't tell them everything, did you?"

"I told them, that you're Hedwig. I supposed that's all there is to know, isn't it?" The look in Harry's eyes told Maggie, that he knew exactly what she'd been referring to. Indeed he had left out the parts about who her parents were and about her past, when he had told his friends about Hedwig or rather Maggie. Slightly nodding, Maggie managed to hold back a sigh of relief.

"I hope you will all forgive me that little lie. I'm quite aware of the fact, that it must have come to all of you as a bit of shock," Maggie continued, specifically glancing at Ginny, who had been avoiding her eyes for a while now. "I'm going to be honest with you now. This is no easier for me than it is for you. I have also lost a dear and very close friend and I also share your fears and doubts as to how the world will continue spinning without him. He, who must not be named, frightens us all and yet we're all here, alive to fight a battle that eventually will lead our whole world into better and brighter days."

"That's quite a speech you made there," Ron pointed out. "But still I don't get it, why Harry's been brought here in the first place. I know it's always the 'he's-safer-here' thing, but I don't quite buy it."

"And right you are, Ronald," Maggie sighed and heaved herself out of her chair with some effort and walked over to the window, starring out into the dawning evening. "The thing is, that I'm capable of a certain kind of magic, that we believe will help Harry defeat Voldemort. That is, if Harry allows me to teach him."

"What magic is that?" Hermione inquired, her interest clearly alert now.

"Hermione, I know that you're eager to learn nearly everything there is out there, but I'm afraid, this is the one thing you will never learn," Maggie said with a somewhat apologetic voice. "You see, you have to be born with these powers, but you have to learn to channel them, so you can make them obey your will. It's an ancient magic that is passed on from generation to generation. I myself have inherited it from my father, who was a very powerful wizard."

"But I'm not a pure-blood. What makes you think, I could learn that kind of magic?" Harry wondered.

"It's not about being of pure blood, Harry. All that matters is, that there's one wizard in your line of ancestors, who has had these powers. You've proven more than once, that you have the powers. Remember that glass vanishing at the zoo or how you made your Aunt Marge blow up like a giant balloon? Mostly this is referred to as magic by accident, which it was in your case. But you were born with the gift to channel these powers and use them at will."

"What makes you think so?"

"Professor Dumbledore, Harry," Maggie smiled and continued her explanation. "Look, usually every kid performs magic accidentally, but it's never quite so powerful. Dumbledore realized quite soon, that you're one of a kind, Harry, when I kept reporting about all the stuff you made happen. He went down in your history and found out, that you are indeed a descendant of Godric Gryffindor. He was the first wizard ever to perform magic without the use of a wand or any kind of incantation."

"Oh, I read about that in 'Godric Gryffindor – Man or Myth'," Hermione exclaimed excitedly. "He could basically do everything without really doing anything – if that makes sense. But I also read in 'The Legend of Salazar Slytherin' that Slytherin could also perform magic that way. Seeing, that Voldemort is a descendant of him, doesn't that give him these powers, too?"

"That's not quite true, Hermione. You see, Salazar Slytherin was indeed capable of wandless magic, but he still had to use his hands. So yes, Voldemort can perform the so called Manus Spells, but they're weaker and have a certain tendency to backfire – no matter how well you've mastered them," Maggie explained and watched them as they were trying to comprehend what they had just hear.

"This means, that I could possess another weapon in the fight against Voldemort?" Harry said, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

"Yes. That is, if you're willing to learn. It usually takes years to become a Cormagus and the fact that you're not yet an adult doesn't make things easier. Any other witch or wizard I know of that are Cormagi were a lot older than you are now when they mastered the art. And that does include me." Maggie sighed, but then looked straight at Harry, giving him a look that he knew well, even though he usually never got it from anybody else but Professor McGonagall. "You will have to put a lot of work and a lot of effort into this, if you really want to master it, Harry. And be warned – any Occlumency lesson with Snape might appear like a walk in the park compared to this. You will have to dedicate every waking moment to practice and learn."

"I don't know if I can do this," Harry said truthfully, absentmindedly playing with Ginny's hand that still rested in his. "I mean – I've hardly mastered these damn non-verbal spells. How do you suppose could I ever learn to control these powers?"

"There's a difference between the non-verbal spells and being a Cormagus. You've tried to master non-verbal magic, because you had to. It is part of your education at Hogwarts. A Cormagus is part of what you are, just like it is a part of me being an Animagus. But the choice is yours, Harry. You can choose whether you want to learn and be what you are or not. It's your choice and yours only. Think it through. Take your time and then make a decision. And no matter what your choice will be, rest assured, that you're not alone. There are people who are there for you and will help you with what you will have to do."

Harry nodded. He didn't know what to say or how to react to such information and so he preferred to keep his quiet and ponder everything for a while. The consequences of what he had just heard began to sink in slowly and if he was honest with himself, he was quite scared. Maggie was right, he knew it, but still in the end he would be alone as the only thing the others would be able to do for him, was to keep Voldemort's outer lines at bay, while he would have to face Voldemort on his own. "Thank you, Maggie," he said eventually and gave her tired smile.

"It's late," Maggie stated, realizing that the four younger witches and wizards looked rather worn. "I'll go upstairs and see what I can do about your sleeping situation. I'm afraid I'm a room short, so you'll all have to stay in Julie's room. If you want anything to eat or drink help yourself and if there should be anything else, I'll be in my bedroom."

"I'll go join you upstairs," Hermione said and got up from her seat. "Maybe I can help you conjure a couple of sleeping bags or something."

"I'm coming, too," Ron said and joined Hermione and Maggie upstairs after bidding their good nights.

Harry eventually let go of Ginny's hand and without saying a word or giving her so much as a warning, he got up and went outside. Curiously he had already found his favorite spot of Maggie's property and went straight to the little spot underneath the old weeping willow where he had spent the better part of the previous night. His mind was racing as he was trying to understand everything that he had just heard. So he was a descendant of Godric Gryffindor. It hadn't come so much as a surprise to him as he had expected. After all Voldemort was the heir of Slytherin, so why shouldn't the only person in the world, who could defeat him, be the heir of Gryffindor? In a way it made perfect sense. But he felt tired – tired, worn and first and foremost he felt extremely lonely. Of course he knew that he wasn't alone, but what good were all the people around him, if they couldn't get through to him, touch his wounded heart and maybe even help him heal it. Now, even Hedwig was gone. Yes, he liked Maggie – even though she was a lot like her mother sometimes. But could he really trust her to the fullest? In times like these there were no guarantees that you could trust the ones closest to you. One thing made it even more difficult for him though. Everyone he'd ever cared about, everyone he'd ever loved was gone. His parents, Sirius, Dumbledore… It was obvious to him that he was a danger to everyone who dared to become more than a mere acquaintance and so once again guilt crept up inside of him. How could he allow Ginny to come so close to him? How could he allow her to love him? How could he allow himself to love her and at that to love anybody? They were all doomed to die and he knew that he should send them all away, that he should keep his distance. But he couldn't.

"How are you feeling?" Ginny's soft voice intruded his dark thoughts and made wish to escape a world, he sometimes in his darkest hours wished he'd never been born into. "You don't look so good."

"A lot of people are asking me this question these days," Harry said at length, avoiding her eyes and instead he gazed out upon the moonlit surface of the small pond.

"Am I just one of them?" Ginny asked, hurt evident in her voice, even though it was obvious that she was trying to hide it.

"Of course not, Ginny. And you know it," Harry sighed, still not looking at her. "The only problem is that I can't give you a satisfactory answer because I don't know how I feel."

"I haven't heard you laughing in a long time, you know…"

"What's there to laugh about? I feel like I'm standing at a crossroad without knowing which path to choose. And I don't really want to make a choice because I don't know what is awaiting me behind the next bend in the road. It's all just so confusing… so frightening!"

"You shouldn't be forced to make that kind of choices, Harry," Ginny stated, leaving Harry at a lack of words. She had put in words what had been spinning in his head for a long time but he had never dared to say it aloud. For a while they just sat there in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts, trying to find a way out of their misery when there was none. "I'm scared, Harry," Ginny eventually broke the silence that had fallen between them and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Why?" he whispered and took her hand in his, softly caressing its back with his thumb.

"I don't really know… There are so many things at stake, so many things have happened and have not yet happened. I guess the possible outcome is what scares me."

"I guess I should've paid more attention in Professor Trelawney's class. Probably I could tell you now what's going to happen in the end," Harry tried to crack a joke, but the weak smile he had forced his lips to form never met his eyes.

"Yeah, probably. What do you say we go back inside? I suppose Ron's worried sick by now about his little oh so helpless sister," Ginny sighed and attempted to get up.

"Oh, I don't think so. He knows that you're with me."

"Guess why he's worried sick!" Ginny grinned and set off towards the house.

A/N:

Kiss-This2010: Hope that clears the fog a little. I have a feeling that all I'm doing is letting them talk all the time. Well, that's gonna change in the next chapter. eg Thanks for the review!

Kathryn Lee: Couldn't really tell you that, could I. I guess you'll just have to wait and see. This story however is not DH compliant. But that wasn't necessarily a hint. ;-) Oh, and thanks for the review. It's greatly appreciated.

Aleta II Anon: Gotta keep you guys reading somehow, don't I? g Thanks for your reviews!

Ahh, I hope this chapter wasn't too confusing with all the magic stuff. Next chapter will be my take on Dumbledore's funeral…

Keep the reviews coming, please! They truly make my day! --- Paddy

5


	8. The Tabby's and the Stag's Grief

A/N: Hello there! I'm afraid I've got some bad news. This will be the last update for a while, since I have to go to hospital on Tuesday and I won't come out for at least three weeks. I'll try to do some writing while I'm there, but since I don't own a laptop I doubt that I'll get much done. But I sincerely hope, that you'll still stick with me and the story, once I'm back. ;-)

**Chapter Eight**

**The ****Tabby****'s and the ****Stag****'s ****Grief**

She felt like a really old and very lonely woman something she had never felt ever since he had come into her life. Gently and yet with all his power he had taken hold of her heart, of her very self and never let go for nearly fifty years. Fifty years! A long time, for some maybe even an eternity, but now they seemed short, too short, as though they had passed in a single moment that still held beautiful and powerful memories. Their life had never been easy; living in a relationship that no one could know about, which meant that living their love had always been overcast with the shadow of one big lie. None of it mattered now. It was over. Their time together had gone by. Death had claimed him, had taken the only man she had ever loved.

Gently Minerva caressed the cold hand that she had been holding onto for the entire night. She looked down at a face that showed an expression of deepest peace. The troubles of the previous years that had lined his face deeply were gone and she once again was looking down at the soft and gentle features of the man she had once fallen in love with. She was reminded of evenings spent in front of a crackling fire in their private quarters, those rooms they had only for themselves and which they only shared with the few ones closest to their hearts. But the warmth was gone now; everything was cold and empty, their big four poster bed felt lonely and uncomfortable without him and wouldn't allow her to get the sleep she so desperately needed.

The first of newly dawning sun fell into the room with the promise of yet another beautiful summer's day. Soon she would have to put on the mask of a woman who grieved the death of a friend, a close friend nevertheless, but she wouldn't be able to say her farewell the way a lover should. With a sigh she got up and let go of his cold hand reluctantly. Minerva looked down at the still form lying before her that had once been filled with so much life.

"Professor? Are you still in here?" Hagrid's deep but still puffy voice tore her out of her reverie and made her jump slightly since she had never noticed him coming in.

"Yes, Hagrid. I'm still here," she answered quietly, without turning to face him. She didn't want him to see her red swollen eyes, the reddened cheeks, the tears that were still running freely.

"It's nearly time, Professor. Lupin and Tonks are here, too. Wanted me to tell you that they've brought the guests, whatever that's supposed to mean."

"Thank you Hagrid. Could you please give me another moment?"

"'Course, Professor. Just… hurry. Minister and folks are arriving already."

"I'll be there shortly, Hagrid. Now if you please…" Minerva said a lot harsher than she had meant to.

"Sorry, Professor." Hagrid hurried out of the small room to give Minerva some privacy to say her final farewell. He was one of the few who knew about their true relationship and even though he had never been known for his talents as a secret keeper, he never had told anybody about it.

"It's farewell then," she whispered with a thick voice and planted a soft kiss on his cold lips. "I'll never forget you, Albus. I love you."

"Where do you think she is?" Hermione whispered to her three friends as she watched more and more witches and wizards arrive at the sight of the funeral down by the lake. "Thought she was in the Order, so she should at least be attending his funeral."

"And why didn't she come with us in the first place?" Ron joined Hermione's string of thoughts and looked at Harry, as though he was the one to ask about anything considering this weird Maggie person.

"I don't know," Harry sighed, quite unnerved. "Maybe she's with McGonagall or something."

"But why would she be with her? It doesn't really make any sense, does it?" Ron insisted and nodded towards Tonks and Lupin who had just occupied their seats two rows ahead of them.

"I don't know!" Harry snapped, intentionally avoiding his friends' eyes as he had been doing all day. He'd hardly slept, constantly thinking of the upcoming funeral and he had been more or less successful keeping his emotions at bay. The grief he felt was more consuming than he let on and threatened to overwhelm him in every waking moment. But he was not the person to show how he really felt. How could he ever allow them to see him cry? All he'd get were smiles full of pity and eyes looking at him helplessly, because they just knew all too well, that they couldn't really understand what he was going through – what he had been going through for the past fifteen years. So many had died, so many people he loved were gone, no longer there, something not one of them had yet experienced. They simply couldn't know how he felt and if he was completely honest with himself – he didn't even want them to. "I'm sorry," he said after a short while, he knew his friends had spent staring at him somewhat aghast.

"It's okay, Harry," Ginny whispered into his ear and then turned to Ron and Hermione. "Why don't you just leave him alone?" she snapped at them angrily. "Don't you see that he isn't feeling well?"

"No need to be bitchy, though," Ron shot back but then took a closer look at his friend. Ginny was right. Harry indeed looked pale and tired; his green eyes were glassy and his black hair even a bit more unruly than usual. "You don't look so good, you know," Ron addressed Harry, casting him a worried look.

"I'm all right," Harry answered a bit too fast and when he eventually turned his head to face his friends, he could see it in their eyes, that they knew he wasn't quite honest with them. But right now he didn't want to admit that his head felt as though it was about to explode and that he was freezing despite the warm sun, shining down heavily on them.

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked softly and took his hand in hers, gently caressing its back.

"Yeah. Just didn't get enough sleep, I suppose."

"Well, I guess none of us did," Hermione said and wanted to continue, when she noticed that the crowd surrounding them fell silent. All of a sudden a sad and yet beautiful melody filled the air, making those who attended the funeral aware, that the ceremony was about to begin. And indeed, at the far end of the field three figures had appeared. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione couldn't see who the witch wearing black robes and a black hat was, but they figured that it could be no one else but Professor McGonagall who was fulfilling her duties as the new headmistress. Next to her stood a wizard; his suit and cape also black. The blonde mane with streaks of gray identified him as the Minister for Magic Rufus Scrimgeour. In front of them stood a man who was literally larger than life, carrying a bundle in his arms wrapped in purple velvet spangled with golden stars. Slowly Hagrid made his way through the aisle between the chairs, holding the dead body in his arms close to his mighty chest, unaware that thick tears trickled down his cheeks through his beard and onto the fabric enclosing Dumbledore's body. The music grew a little louder and intense, making emotions well up inside of Harry that he hadn't felt before. When the small party passed their row of seats, he had to turn away and let his eyes wander to stare at the smooth surface of the lake, glistening under the glowing sun. Not for the first time since they'd arrived at the Hogwarts Grounds, he wished that Maggie would be there. In a way she was still a stranger, but now she seemed closer to his heart, than his three friends sitting next to them. She knew what he felt like, what he was going through right now. Just like him, she had also endured the pain of losing someone so close before and knew that it was the kind of the injury on your soul that would never quite heal and leave deep scars.

The music had ended and when Harry eventually made himself look into the direction where he knew the tomb was, he saw that Dumbledore's body had been laid to rest on the white table and Hagrid was gone, nowhere to be seen.

"Today we've come together to honor the life and the memory of one of the greatest wizards of our time," Scrimgeour's magically enhanced voice echoed over the grounds and silenced the remaining few, who were still whispering to those sitting next to them. "Albus Dumbledore was without a doubt the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen. His heroic actions in the past and the indescribable wisdom that he has accumulated throughout his life are legendary and forced even his most severe enemies to bow before him. The Ministry for Magic …" Harry couldn't concentrate on Scrimgeour's words. His headache became worse with every moment passing, his vision was blurry and he felt ready to throw up any moment. Harry drew his hand out of Ginny's and folded his arms in front of his chest, as though the simple movement could calm his revolting body so that he could regain control over himself. The heat had become unbearable and he was going back and forth between breaking out in sweats and chills, making his entire form shake violently.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice was quiet and he hardly understood her. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he croaked, desperately trying to keep his own voice under control. "Just a little headache. That's all."

"Are you sure?" she asked again, worry evident in her voice.

"I'm sure."

"Shh," an elderly witch sitting behind them hissed angrily and they both immediately fell silent. But Harry was still fighting. He no longer understood what Scrimgeour was saying. Instead his words were sliced into bits and pieces, some of them reaching his ears, others not. Harry tried to clear his head and closed his eyes for a moment, but instantly opened them again as a wave nausea washed over him, making him nearly puke onto his lap. Taking in a couple of deep breaths he sat straight and held his head up eye, forcing his eyes to look into the direction of the podium where Scrimgeour was still making his speech.

Time passed awfully slow. When Scrimgeour had eventually finished his speech, a smaller wizard stepped onto the podium and began with the ceremony. He also made a little speech, much shorter than the Minister's though and then proceeded towards Dumbledore's body. The crowd rose to their feet and so did Harry, but he soon realized that it wasn't such a good idea for him to stand up. His legs were trembling with the effort, his head spinning from getting up way too fast. Harry took in a deep breath and looked up into the blue sky in another desperate attempt to clear his head and steady himself so that he could hold out to the end of the funeral. For a moment he closed his eyes when he heard a very familiar but somehow painful sounding hoot coming from a huge and old fir nearby the lake. Harry turned his head towards the direction where the sound had come from. There on a thick branch, he could make out a white spot amidst the green and brown of needles and twigs and immediately recognized Hedwig sitting on that branch. He forced a small smile to appear on his lips when he realized that she had come. Somehow he now knew that he indeed was not alone, even felt relieved and so didn't quite understand the panic in Ginny's voice as she shouted his name. His vision blurred again before everything went black and he knew no more.


End file.
